Sometimes when I am all alone,
Away from noise and strife,
The many faults and weaknesses,
That rule my daily life
Seem to die out. And as I sit
From worldiness apart,
All that is good and pure obtains
The mastery of my heart.
And then my soul turns heavenward,
And I commune with God.
I long to tread the narrow path
That Christ before me trod.
I long to see his precious face--
To go where angels go,
To leave the fleeting, fading things
That make up life below.
My soul expands with ecstacy,
My heart grows brave, and strong,
To meet whatever lies ahead--
To battle down the wrong.
No sorrow can affright my soul,
No earthly ill, I fear,
While in that blessed trance I sit
And feel that God is near.
And then I mingle with the world,
And falter day by day.
Until at last I walk within
The olden, sinful way.
O, shall I even grow in grace,
O shall I ever be,
Ready to meet the judgment day--
Fit for eternity?
Shells by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Milwaukee: Hauser & Storey, 1873.
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